


Universal

by kissontheneck



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-28
Updated: 2009-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 16:26:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissontheneck/pseuds/kissontheneck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how you say it, C loves A.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Universal

The sun was perfectly round and yellow in the glass-like sky and David Archuleta was on top of the world. Finally, there was a break in scheduling for both he and Cook. Finally, they could spend some time together. And he had been thinking for a long time of the perfect way to spend it. When he had talked to Cook the night before he told him, quite nervously, in fact, not to eat before he came over and that depending on the weather he might want to bring a jacket.

“What are you up to, Archuleta?” Cook’s voice had been gravely and mysterious.

“It’s a surprise!” David had answered, giggling. “Just do it!”

Cook had arrived mid-day, as instructed, and when David peeked out of the side window at him waiting on the porch, he lingered a moment, taking in his scruffy, bed-headed lover’s relaxed stance, leather jacket flung over his shoulder, sexy aviator sunglasses perched on his face. He sort of looked like he didn’t belong out in the daytime. Cook caught David peering out the window and stuck out his tongue. David giggled and disappeared from the window.

As soon as David swung open the door, Cook bent over at the waist, leaning on his knees and wailed, “I’m wasting away, Archie, I’m soooo huuunnggrryy.”

“Oh, my gosh!” David gasped, but laughed because Cook was laughing too. Cook straightened up, leaned in and put his hand on David’s cheek before greeting him with a gentle kiss.

“Well, what’s the big surprise?” Cook asked. “It’s been killing me to know what you’re up to.”

David felt heat fill his face – he knew he was blushing. In response, he reached to something he had set out behind the door just moments before Cook had arrived. With a bit of difficulty he hauled up the basket and presented it to Cook.

“Picnic!” Cook said, taking in the bright yellow wicker food basket. “Ha ha, you’re so cute, Archie. I love it.” He kissed him again.

David’s cheeks grew hotter. He had hoped that was the response he’d get, but when packing the lunch that morning he had continuously doubted himself, feeling sure that it was a really silly thing in the end.

“Well, let’s go,” Cook said, eagerly grabbing the picnic basket. “I really am starving.”

Upon arriving at the park not too far from where he lived, David noted all the happy people there already. Kids playing on the playground, a couple throwing a Frisbee for their dog. It could not be any more of a perfect day, he decided, and he almost wanted to sit in the car another moment longer just to watch _them_.

“Prime spot over by that tree,” Cook said, drawing David out of his daydream. The tree in question was at the edge of an open area, a thick of bushes just behind it; in the open enough to enjoy the atmosphere of the park, but off on its own enough to feel private.

Cook grabbed the picnic basket out of the back of the car and David grabbed the blanket he had thankfully remembered (well, maybe it had really been his mother who reminded him when he had been speaking to her earlier that a picnic would be a disaster without a blanket to spread out).

Cook opened the trunk and hauled out his guitar as well and David’s breath caught in his throat. If heaven had a sound, he knew it sounded like David Cook’s guitar. The thing produced the most wonderful tones, the kind that make you fall in love. Of course, that could have had something to do with the musician as well, but David liked giving the credit to the guitar for now. He reached out and took the guitar from Cook because he felt silly only carrying the blanket.

“You know I don’t even let Neal touch that thing,” Cook said breezily as they walked across the open grass and were nearly bombarded by the dog chasing the Frisbee.

“Wh – really?” David had to stop short so as to avoid smacking the dog with the guitar case.

“Not really,” Cook smirked, “but it made you feel good, right?”

It most definitely had.

“Here we are,” Cook said as they arrived at the tree. He put the basket down and beckoned for one end of the blanket. David put down the guitar and took a minute finding the corner of the worn blanket that he was sure was older than he was. The breeze had picked up and so when he tried to hand it to Cook, he found it difficult at first. Finally, they had drawn out the blanket when another whisk of wind ripped the corners out of David’s hands and the blanket flew right over Cook’s head, enrobing him.

“Oh!” David ran over to Cook, who was just standing like a statue, blanket covering his face, laughing. “Oh, I’m sorry, that… that wind!”

“I kind of like it in here,” Cook’s muffled voice came out. “It’s private.”

David grinned mischievously and took up one corner of the blanket again. Holding it up just above his waist, he ducked down and tucked his head under the blanket as well, drawing up close to Cook and then saying, “Room enough for two in here?”

Cook gave a crooked smile. “Always.” He bent to David’s pouty lips and gave a long, soft kiss. It was very tempting to David to just stay there under the blanket for the rest of the day, but then he realized it probably looked really ridiculous, which then made him suddenly _feel_ really ridiculous. It prompted him to say, “We’d better get this laid out.”

On the second try, the blanket made it completely to the ground and within moments the boys had settled down onto it and David began unloading the contents of the picnic basket. Several sandwiches, individual cheese servings, grapes, and carrots made it out before a second round of French bread, soda, two bars of dark chocolate and a container of chocolate pudding joined them. Cook looked like his eyes couldn’t bring it all in at once.

“Geez, Archie, I thought we were having a picnic, not going camping.”

“Well, I – I didn’t want to forget anything.” David felt a little awkward. He had simply just kept thinking of all these wonderful things to include… he hoped he didn’t seem weird.

“It’s all fantastic,” Cook said, taking up a sandwich and peering between the slices of bread. “I just might need a take-home bag.” David laughed in relief.

“Mmm, grapes,” Cook said through a mouthful of sandwich and pointing. “You know how many I can fit in my mouth?”

“Uh…” David was not sure what to say. He picked at the crust of his sandwich and shoved it uneasily into his mouth.

“Wanna find out?” Cook dropped his sandwich and reached for the large bunch of green grapes in front of David. “Hmm, these are pretty big, I might not beat my record.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” David finally asked, laughing. But Cook was already shoving grapes into his mouth, pausing periodically to readjust how they were fitting against his cheeks.

“You’re insane!” David laughed, but Cook kept wedging them in. His cheeks were bulging in an amazingly silly yet adorable way.

Finally, Cook gestured for a napkin and David handed him one. The grapes tumbled out onto it and Cook wiped his face with his sleeve. “Wanna guess?”

David was completely perplexed by this entire spectacle. “Um… I have no idea.”

Cook began counting, scooting each grape from one end of the napkin to the other as he did so. David bit his sandwich with half-interest, hardly looking at it.

“Damn, twenty-six,” Cook concluded. “That’s terrible.”

“Oh, my gosh,” David mumbled, cupping his hand over his mouth so as not to expose its contents. “That’s incredible.”

“_Thirty-two_ is incredible,” Cook said dismissively, grabbing one of the individually wrapped cheeses and then stretching out onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. He still gave no explanation for this strange skill and David wasn’t sure if he even wanted to ask.

Cook shoved the piece of cheese into his mouth, sighed and then fell back flat on his back, chewing thoughtfully. “God, it’s a beautiful today.”

David took Cook in from his head to his feet. He loved just looking at him sometimes, and always found small little details on him that to him were the most beautiful things in the world. He watched Cook’s chest rise and fall, noted how his jeans creased across his knees, and his eyes lingered on the sliver of tummy that was now exposed between his shirt and the top of his jeans. He smiled inwardly before crawling over on his hands and knees and planting a slow kiss on Cook’s slightly parted lips. Cook reciprocated, eyes closed.

“Will you play something for me?” David whispered, lips so close to Cook’s face that the words hung trapped between their mouths.

“Of course,” Cook answered. He smooched his lips in an air kiss and then sat up.

The clicking sounds of the latches coming up on the guitar case had developed in David a conditioning reflex, like a cat to a can opener. He closed his eyes and even the rustling of Cook moving about, knocking the guitar with his bracelets, fingers scraping across sour-sounding strings. It was a symphony in itself.

Cook began to play, just a random assortment of chords that sounded nice together. Cook had the incredible talent to just _play_. He needed no direction at all, it poured out of him like he were merely the tool through which the media played. David stretched out next to his lover now, leaning his head slightly against Cook’s knee, just far enough away to not be in the way of his playing. Cook began to hum along with his on-the-spot tune.

David felt he could go to sleep right then. There was no place else on earth he’d rather be, for the rest of his life really. He sighed deeply. The sounds of the guitar resonated in his ear and it was starting to sound familiar. Familiar in a way that he felt silly that he didn’t recognize the song. Cook started to hum a little louder, as if realizing David was having this train of thought and was trying to encourage him to come up with the song. It was achingly familiar and yet… wait, that’s it… he felt so silly.

The words cascaded from his lips, almost on their own, “And when you’re standing here in front of me, that’s when I know that God does exist… because he will have answered every single prayer... just to be with you.”

“Took you long enough.” There was a smile in Cook’s voice.

“You played it different,” David defended, head still against Cook’s knee, eyes still closed.

“I most certainly did not,” Cook laughed slightly. “I would never re-arrange someone else’s song.”

David laughed. “It’s a piano song, it’s not the same.”

“Excuses, excuses.”

David felt fingertips on his forehead and then his hair being pulled gently through Cook’s fingers. No, he didn’t want to move from right here ever again for his whole entire life.

“Ooh, I have an idea,” Cook said suddenly. “Stay here, Archie.”

“Huh?” David sat up to see the guitar abandoned at his side and Cook walking with purpose over to the tree near them. He watched as Cook dug into his pocket for something before scoping out the tree as if looking to hang a picture on it.

“What are you doing?” he called out.

“Just… be patient!” Cook hollered back. A pocket knife flashed and David drew in his breath a little as its point pierced the tree’s flesh. He sat there watching for a few minutes, Cook jabbing at the poor tree repeatedly before he finally couldn’t take it anymore and got up to join him.

“What are you _doing_?” he asked again, but he wasn’t answered by Cook directly, but rather by his glance at the tree. A large, lop-sided heart was etched into its side. “What’s that?”

“Well, it’s not finished, Mr. Impatient, but it’s a heart,” Cook answered, going back to work on it. “You know, it’s sort of a universal symbol of love.”

“It’s lop-sided,” David observed, grinning.

“Oh, well, you try drawing on the side of a tree with a blunt knife that was last used by Kyle to eat a steak in the tour bus and see how well you do.”

“What?” David was laughing now. The image of Kyle hunched over a steak, somehow with Cook’s pocket knife, was almost too much to be true.

“Nevermind,” Cook laughed too, “it’s not important. There, now it’s done.”

While they had been talking Cook had finished off “C + A” in the center.

“C plus A?” David squinted at the letters.

“Well, I figured ‘David loves David’ sounded egotistical.”

David stood there for he didn’t even know how long staring at the tree. It was somehow the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It was also a bit strange feeling, having such a public declaration of his heart there for everyone passing to see. Cook circled David’s waist from behind and tucked his chin into the crook of David’s neck.

“Te amo, David.” He whispered his name with the Spanish pronunciation: Dah-_veed_.

David whirled around to face him, eyes searching Cook’s face for the answer to the question he was about to ask. “¿Tu aprendes español?

Cook was taken aback and his eyes went wide. “What?”

David grinned through an astonished laugh. “You’re learning Spanish?”

Cook’s face relaxed into an awkward smile. His fingers found their way awkwardly through his untamed hair. “Well, I learned that.”

David’s heart was sailing. He stood there, arms around Cook’s waist, staring into his abysmal eyes for what seemed like both a millisecond and an eternity.

“Te amo tambien, David.” He rested his cheek against Cook’s solid chest. “Te amo tambien.”


End file.
